


psychotic kids

by Bekka911



Series: play me a lullaby [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Good Brother Diego Hargreeves, Good Brother Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy), Hurt Klaus Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Protective Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 21:34:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21022607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bekka911/pseuds/Bekka911
Summary: He stumbles through the front door with bruises on his skin and panic in his veins. Usually, he can make it to his room without anyone stopping him.This time, though, Five notices the shaky hands.(The one where Five finds out what his brother has dealt with on the streets and is intent on revenge)





	psychotic kids

**Author's Note:**

> Oof, first TUA fic. This was actually kind of hard to write not going to lie. Let me know what you think!

Five sips at his coffee, watching Klaus tip-toe into the kitchen and wondering why his brother is so insistent on sneaking. To be fair, it’s 3am, and Five is the only other one awake, but still. He’s watched Klaus creep through the front door numerous times at all hours, always looking guilty about something.

Five frowns as Klaus quietly open the freezer and grabs a bag of something frozen. The soft light briefly illuminates his face - it’s enough for Five to see the bruises around Klaus’s throat and the way his breathing is stuttering and uneven. He’s wearing something that obviously used to be a shirt, but it’s torn to shreds; because of fashion or because of something else, Five isn’t sure.

Klaus hisses softly to himself as he lifts down the frozen food and presses it to his face. Five catches glimpses of smudges on his brother’s forearms, and the fact that his left hand in sticky with something. Five’s grip on his coffee tightens.

He waits until Klaus shuts the freezer and plunges the room back into darkness before saying, “Rough night?”

Klaus swears and drops the bag of frozen peas, hands flailing in the darkness as if it would do something to keep Five away. Five just flips the light switch and bathes the room in a soft yellow glow. 

“Five!” Kaus greets, almost imperceptibly straightening his shoulders. Five tracks the motion, and notes it down. The pieces are starting to come together in his head and he isn’t sure he likes the picture forming. “Jesus fuck, little buddy, you scared me!”

Five scowls. “Don’t call me little.” He ignores Klaus’s babbled response, instead stepping forward and trying to grab Klaus’s arm. Klaus very deftly deflects all his attempts without even taking a breath.

Up close, the wounds are worse and Five purses his lips in disapproval. There’s more bruising on Klaus’s chest, and there are deep gouges in his shoulders as if someone has dug nails in. Blood is speckled over the tattered shirt barely hanging onto Klaus’s thin frame. Five chases Klaus’s hand, gritting his teeth as his brother steps away.

“Give me your arm,” he demands, reaching for Klaus again.

Klaus doesn’t. “I’m not high,” he says defensively, some of the false bravado fading from his voice. 

Five rolls his eyes, and wonders why his siblings have to be so dense and stubborn. “I know you aren’t high,” he snaps. “Your pupils aren’t dilated and your sense of balance is minimal. Usually when you’re high, you’re steadier on your feet. What you _are_, though, is injured, and if you don’t give me your arm I _will_ call for Luther.”

Klaus pouts, but Five just stares at him and waits. With a grumble, Klaus holds his arms out like he’s waiting to be handcuffed. “I don’t know what you’re looking for,” he says as Five inspects the ugly purple hand prints scattered over Klaus’s tan skin. “He went easy this time. Just a few marks - so what? If you must know, it’s a kink of mine-”

“Who’s he?” Five asks sharply, cutting him off. When Klaus just blinks at him, he sighs sharply and drops his brother’s arm. “You said ‘he’s done worse’. Who’s _he_?”

Klaus goes strangely pale, fingers flexing before his stormy expression clears and he slips back into character. Five isn’t amused. “He’s a regular of mine,” Klaus says dismissively, waving off Five and stooping to pick up the discarded bag of peas off the floor. “I’ve slept with him a few times. We were exploring some new things tonight.”

“I need a _name_, Klaus.”

Klaus turns away, holding the bag to his face and grimacing. Five follows him out of the kitchen and upstairs, catching every stumble and wince and shudder. He hates that he doesn’t have facts, but he can’t help that Klaus isn’t forthcoming about what happened.

Five keeps quiet as they reach Klaus’s room, simply watching as Klaus strips out of the torn shirt and rifles through his closet, throwing on one of Ben’s old hoodies. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you,” Klaus says lightly, flopping haphazardly on the bed.

Five doesn’t miss the way Klaus’s body tenses and relaxes, or the way his breathing gives out at the contact. “I want you to tell me what happened.”

“You want all the dirty details?” Klaus grins up at him, but Five isn’t dissuaded by the faux humour. “I didn’t know you were such a-”

“_Klaus_.” Five fights the urge to rub his temples. A few months ago, he would’ve given up. But this isn’t a few months ago and he finds he can’t make himself walk out the door. He tries softening his voice. “You’re hurt.”

Klaus pauses, his green eyes flicking over Five’s face, searching for something. He seems to find it, because he almost..._deflates_. His shoulders slump, and he drops the bag of peas on the bed. “Look,” he says, hands clenching and unclenching in the bed sheets. “I was just paying off an old debt, okay?”

Five nods once, eyes tracking Klaus’s hands as they shake and shake and shake. Something _bad_ happened tonight, and that fills him with hot anger. He may not be good with emotions, but he does love his siblings, and the fact that Klaus has been treated like this, the fact that Klaus had to _live_ like this for _years_, makes him furious.

He steps forward and reaches for Klaus’s face, gritting his teeth as Klaus shies away. “Hey,” he says calmly, meeting his brother’s green eyes again. “Let me look.”

This time, when he reaches forward, Klaus stays still. Five grips his chin gently, tilting his face to the side to gauge how bad the bruising is. It isn’t pretty - Klaus must have been hit pretty hard, perhaps repeatedly. His split lip makes Five frown; the wound hasn’t quite clotted, and blood is still dribbling down the cracked skin. At least there are only flesh wounds. Five might actually kill someone if there had been broken bones.

Klaus makes a small noise in his throat when Five moves down and presses a hand to his ribs. Five takes a sharp breath. Cracked ribs. Klaus has _cracked ribs_.

“Stay put,” he orders harshly, jumping through space before Klaus has an opportunity to answer.

Five materialises in the med bay, muttering to himself about stubborn siblings and no-good, street scum. He gathers an armful of antiseptic wipes, bandages of differing sizes, and different creams to help with the bruising. If it had been anyone other than Klaus, he would’ve grabbed some painkillers, but he’d rather not ruin his brother’s sobriety so he leaves them.

He jumps back to Klaus’s room just in time to hear him say, “I told you it doesn’t matter. Kip’s roughed me up before and I consented to it.”

“So I’m looking for a Kip,” Five says casually, dumping the medical supplies on the bed next to his brother. 

Klaus chokes on a breath, scrabbling to sit upright. “Jesus,” he gasps theatrically, holding his hands to his chest. “I’m gonna get you a damn bell if you keep that up.”

Five rolls his eyes and pushes on Klaus’s chest until his brother gets the hint and shuffles back, leaning against the wall. Five just stares at the hoodie until Klaus huffs and pulls it off gingerly, hissing out through his teeth as the wounds on his shoulders stretch and pull.

Five waits until Klaus has settled before grabbing an antiseptic wipe and beginning to wipe at the split lip. “Were you talking to Ben?” He asks quietly as he works. 

Klaus’s mouth twitches under Five’s careful ministrations. Getting the hint, Five pulls away for a moment. “He’s being obsessively over-protective,” Klaus says dryly, eyes fixed on a spot just over Five’s shoulder. “He was with me when everything happened, so he’s being fussy.”

Five raises an eyebrow, and moves back in to finish tending to Klaus’s split lip. His head is spinning with different thoughts as he tries to understand why Klaus is so heavily injured and why he won’t say anything about it. It’s frustrating, not knowing.

He absently finishes treating Klaus’s face, smearing cream over the bruises and the split lip before moving down to his brother’s shoulders. The wounds there are more serious - whatever ripped into Klaus’s skin had been blunt and jagged. The skin is torn open and blood is oozing sluggishly out of the small wounds. There are five of them on each shoulder.

They’re in the perfect position to be from someone’s nails.

Klaus feels his nostrils flare as anger chokes him. “Klaus,” he says, voice tight with barely-controlled fury. “Tell me the truth. _What the fuck happened_?”

Klaus makes a noise of protest, whining slightly as Five starts wiping at the wounds. When Five glances up, Klaus has his eyes screwed shut in pain. He breathes out sharply through his nose, lips thinning. “If this is your idea of a good time,” he says hoarsely, cracking open an eye and looking at Five, “then I am severely worried about your mental state.” 

Five snorts, and the sound is sharp and ugly. “Apparently _your_ idea of a good time is non-consensual activities and pain, so I’m not sure you’re the best judge of that.”

Klaus doesn’t say much after that. 

Five is content to work in silence, gnawing on his bottom lip as he gently stitches shut the worst wound, which is near Klaus’s right collarbone. The skin is torn too much for him to simply bandage it, and Five doesn’t want to risk infection. He simply washes the other ones and bandages them, ignoring the urge to put his fist through something. He has to watch his temper around Klaus - his brother has always been flighty, and in this state Five might just scare him off.

Five can’t do much for the bruises across Klaus’s torso, so he puts some cream on and just leaves them. He finishes his inspection, taking note of the fact that the marks run all the way down past the waistline of Klaus’s pants. Five isn’t going to go there. He has his limits.

“You’ll be alright,” he says decisively, straightening up and setting aside the medical supplies and rifling around for Klaus’s hoodie. “I’d get you something for the pain, but I don’t exactly want to kickstart your addiction again.”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t really hurt.” 

Five purses his lips, frowning at his brother. Klaus’s eyes are cloudy and his voice sounds far-away. Whatever had been done to him tonight had been bad, had touched a nerve and forced Klaus into his head. Five knows how dangerous that can be. “Klaus,” he says, keeping his voice quiet and steady. “Hey, you should lie down.”

Klaus doesn’t show any sign of hearing him, and Five can feel his worry increase. Klaus is never..._still_ like this. He’s annoying, and a pain in the ass, and sure, Five used to hate the fact that Klaus could never sit and shut up but…

He reaches for Klaus, only to freeze as his brother jerks away, a small whimper bubbling out of his throat. Klaus’s hands tremble as he raises them to his throat, his chin dropping down as he curls up into a ball. He manages to squish his gangly limbs into the corner, and Five eyes him in concern. 

“Easy,” he soothes, letting his hand hover awkwardly in the air. He feels out of place here. Usually it’s Diego who offers comfort to Klaus. Usually it’s Diego that Klaus goes to for tactile attention because Diego will give it to him, even if it’s in a negative way. Klaus would take a punch over a lonely night, and now Five wonders if that’s what driven Klaus to this ‘Kip’ over and over again.

Klaus’s unfocused eyes flick over Five’s face. “I told him no this time,” he whispers, like it’s some shameful secret. “I promise I did.”

“I believe you Klaus.” Five does believe him, and it makes him burn with anger. How many other times has Klaus said no, only to have the choice ripped away from him? “Listen, you need to lie down and-”

“Ben was there,” Klaus says, and his green eyes clear just slightly. He stares at the air beside his bed. “He wanted to help, but you know, he’s dead so he really couldn’t do much.”

Five flexes his hand and takes a deep breath. None of this is Klaus’s fault, and getting explosively angry right now will only do further harm. “I’m sure Ben can do just fine on his own,” he says lightly, holding out the worn hoodie. “He just chooses to stay around your dumb ass for some reason. I think death made his brain a bit screwy.”

Klaus almost-smiles, and Five lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as his brother takes the hoodie and shrugs it on. “It doesn’t hurt this time,” Klaus murmurs, sliding down the bed until he’s curled around a pillow. 

Five hums noncommitedly, gingerly sitting on the bed as Klaus sighs and settles, mumbling to himself and Ben. Five waits, letting his fingers gently comb through Klaus’s curls. He feels awkward doing it, because affection isn’t really his strong point, but he thinks that maybe he can suffer through it for Klaus.

It doesn’t take long for Klaus to fall asleep.

Five waits for half an hour, just to be sure, before pulling himself away and clearing up the medical supplies. He pauses in the doorway, eyeing Klaus as he sleeps. “Sleep well, brother,” Five breathes, and then closes the door gently. 

He jumps to the medical bay and deposits the supplies, jumping away again and appearing in Diego’s room. His brother looks like he’s sleeping but Five knows better. Diego had awoken the moment Five had appeared.

“Is he in his room?” Diego asks quietly, opening his eyes. They gleam in the darkness.

Five nods, then realises that maybe that’s not the best move when there’s no light. “Yeah. I got him to sleep, but he’s pretty banged up. He went through some shit tonight, and I don’t trust him alone.”

Diego heaves himself up, letting out a heavy breath. “Where are you going?”

Five’s smile is all teeth. “I’m going hunting.”

.

Klaus wakes up in the morning with two people wrapped around him. Five is sleeping behind him, his uniform ripped and covered in dried blood. Diego is curled up on his other side, chest rising and falling steadily.

Klaus looks up and finds Ben’s eyes. The ghost says nothing, but the tears in his eyes mirror Klaus’s.


End file.
